


BATIM Mini Adventures

by o_Athazagoraphobia_o



Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Genre: Alice and Susie get along, Alternate Universe, Fluff, Gen, Humor, I might expand on these, Ink, Ink switch, Joey is kinda oblivious, Lunch, Multi, Music, Norman is so done, Or many people, Paperclip chains, Pies, Sammy and Susie are friends, Sammy loses it, Sammy might kill someone, Sarcasm, Wally might die, When isn't there ink?, bendy is somewhat ignorant, cause like, joey has a lot of messes to clean up, platonic, poor sammy, recording sessions, sassy sammy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-23
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2019-08-06 05:57:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16382675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/o_Athazagoraphobia_o/pseuds/o_Athazagoraphobia_o
Summary: Just small one-shots and drabbles for the employees of Joey Drews Studios.





	1. Stress of Eating

**Author's Note:**

> Summary: People can't get to the cafeteria for lunch because the stairwell's flooded. But where's Wally?

The two of them had already missed half of their lunch break. As Susie and Henry made their way towards the break room, exchanging small talk, they slowed down at the sight of the throng of people crowded around the stairwell that led to the cafeteria. At the edge of it, Norman Polk stood, halfheartedly throwing glances at the stairwell back down to the music department. When he spotted the voice actress and animator, he straightened his posture.

“Henry, Susie!” The projectionist called, waving them over to where he stood. The two strode over, not quite tall enough to see over the mob of hungry employees.

“Norman,” Henry nodded, a welcoming grin on his face. “What in the devil’s name is goin’ on over here?”

“Apparently, another one of the pipes burst,” Norman stated tiredly. “Stairwell’s flooded.” 

“Well, where’s Wally?” Susie butted in curiously. Norman eyed the distant stairwell.

“Well, I coulda swore I saw him heading down to lunch early. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was down there already.” Susie nudged Henry with her elbow.

“We oughta talk to Mr. Drew about this, huh Henry?” Henry sighed. Either they talked about to Joey about the pipes or about Wally.

“Might as well.” Norman waved them off before heading off in the direction of the music department, probably to check over a projector while this mess gets cleaned up.

As the two walked down the friendly hallways to Joey’s office, Susie decided to break the silence.

“Y’know, I’m surprised Sammy wasn’t there.” Henry glanced over at her curiously. She sent a playful glare his way.

“You know how he gets when he’s stressed. With all the deadlines Joey’s givin’ him, you’d think he would have been power swimming through all that ink to throttle Wally.”

Henry snorted - it did sound like him. 

They paused in front of Joey’s door. They probably should have knocked, but instead, they swung the door open and stepped inside.

“And I will say I am most surprised at you- excuse me?” Joey had to stop his ranting as Henry and Susie gaped at the three presences in the office. 

“Golly, Wally. What in the devil’s name happened to ya?” Susie asked, hand covering her mouth. Maybe it was to try to close it, or maybe to stifle the laughter that threatened to spill out of her. 

Wally swiped some pie filling off of his cheek.

“I messed with the devil, Miss Susie. I’m lucky I even lived.” Next, to him, Sammy Lawrence straightened in his wooden chair.

“Now listen here you nuisance. I am just about done with you bothering me when I’m trying to work and eat my god damn food in peace and I swear if this happens again any time soon you will have a lot worse than your goddamn pie slamming into your goddamn face!” At this point, Sammy had stood up, towering over the still grinning and pie-covered face of Wally Franks. Joey dragged his hand down his face. It was evident that this had been going on for some time now. Finally, he spoke up.

“Now listen here, you two,” He said sternly. “Sammy, if you cannot handle the reasonable deadlines I give out then maybe you should consider putting more effort into your work.” Sammy opened his mouth, face darkening. Joey plowed on.

“Secondly, Franks, you should-”

Joey was interrupted by a pealing laugh incredibly similar to the beloved cartoon character Alice Angel. Susie, who had not visibly tuned into the growing storm, had been watching with growing amusement Wally trying to lick a large dollop of filling off of his nose. The musical sound managed to dispel most of the tension in the room, much to Henry’s relief. With a head shake and sigh, Joey dismissed all of them. As the four employees stepped into the hallway, three of them watched the livid music director storm off, away from them.

“Oh, Wally!” Susie clapped her hands to get the janitor’s attention. “Everyone’s furious because the stairwell to the cafeteria flooded!” Wally gulped and hurriedly patted his pockets, presumably looking for a certain set of keys. 

“Oh dear… Sammy’s really gonna kill me.” And with that, he was off. The animator and actress bid each other farewell, and went to their respective workstations, in hopes of making progress with their beloved little children's show.

The next day, Sammy Lawrence came in with all five songs done and impossibly dark shadows adorning his sickly pale face.


	2. The Music Director's Switch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You know what's worse than loud anger?
> 
> Sammy Lawrence when he loses it.

Sammy Lawrence had many switches. Well, only two matter at the moment. The one sitting in his office and the one keeping him from killing Joey and everyone else in the studio.

 

It had been around six months after Joey did his normal “friend-summoning” rituals that frankly drove Sammy to drive his head through his desk (he never told anyone why there were so many indents in it) but still took care of the surplus of ink leaking out of the pipes. Actually, that didn't stay the case for long. Because soon the ink machine made up for what it had lost, and the pipes were roaring again.

 

The toons had never experienced the once-daily flooding the employees had been so used to. Although it was obvious now that they had gotten too accustomed to a peaceful workday.

 

The door to the music room opened silently and slowly, Bendy and Boris trying carefully not to interrupt the current recording session and band practice. Boris caught Norman’s eye from the projector booth, and he made his way over there. Unlike Bendy, Boris had this unknown talent of moving silently. And unlike Bendy, he was considerate of personal space. As the band played, Bendy popped over the members' shoulders, nodding his head to the beat as his pie-cut eyes scanned each player's different parts.

 

Boris glanced to Norman’s other side sympathetically, as the talented music director glared a hole in the wall above Alice’s and Susie’s heads, pointedly ignoring the slight disturbance the dancing demon was causing.

 

As the song drew to a close, and Susie led Alice out of the small recording booth, Bendy clapped his hands while making his way to the front of the room. The sound was amplified, probably due to the strange cartoon logic the toons brought with them.

 

“That was right dandy, lemme tell ya. But it wasn’t quite as…” Bendy searched around for the word. “ _ Demonic _ as its supposed to sound, ain’t that right Sammy?” At this, he glanced up at the music director, who continued to stare aggressively at the innocent wall, before turning his gaze to bore into Bendy. For someone who was brought here by Satan, he felt as if Sammy was going to send him packin’ on home.

 

“...” A pause as Sammy opened and closed his mouth. “Are you dumb?” He was quieter than he normally would be at times like this, which should have been the first sign.

 

Bendy paused, before glancing at Boris and Alice in confusion. Sammy went on, regardless of the evident confusion around the devil darling.

 

“This is the pasture scene, you absolute idiot.” He berated tiredly, resting his head in his hands as he braced his elbows on the projector booth railing. Somehow, not being at the end of his usual fearsome fury wasn’t as bad as being faced with tired anger, mixed with dreaded disappointment.

 

“Haha! It’s alright, Sammy! I know I’m a good actor, no need to fall so easily!” Bendy knew he was good at acting, and he never put less than 75 percent into his works. Although, he was a little disappointed when Sammy pushed himself up and started for the door.

 

“I’m taking my break,  _ now _ .”

 

The rooms current occupants watched as the door swung closed behind the silently fuming musician before the projectionist rapped his knuckles on the worn railing, catching the attention of those below him.

 

“Well, since Bendy mentioned it, why don’t we try that conflict song?”

 

That was all that needed to be said before the uncomfortable musicians picked up their instruments and started up the melody.

 

* * *

 

During the second time rehearsing the song, this time with vocals included, the door eased open again. Some musicians perked up, wishing that it was their director returning instead of the small toon made for children. However, it was one of the animators from down the hall, nervously twisting the hem of their shirt into a sweaty knot. The man shifted uncertainly in the doorway as curious musicians stared his way.

 

“Do, uh, any of ya know where Mr. Lawrence may be?” The poor man asked staring at his ink-stained shoes.

 

“Nome,” Norman stated wearily, making his way down from his booth. “Why?” The man ran a hand through his hair, groaning in exhaustion.

 

“That damn stairwell flooded again, no one can get to where they wanna be, and I’m worried that Mr. Lawrence may start screamin’ again if I go in there to use that switch.”

 

Bendy did a neat little flip from his makeshift conductor step stool and trotted over to the animator.

 

“Well, I bet you that he’s probably down at his break. He said he was going on it a while ago!” The sight of the small toon was apparently reassurance enough for the fearful worker to steel himself before waving his thanks and heading down the hall. Susie sighed, twirling a lock of hair around her finger.

 

“I sure hope, for his sake, Sammy isn’t there.”

 

* * *

 

It didn’t take long for the animator to scramble his way back, shoving his way back to the music room and slam the door behind him, panting. Again, several pairs of eyes landed on his trembling form. The animator lifted a shaking hand, before waving it in the general area where Sammy’s office would be. On some silent wavelength, five individuals stepped forward and past the ghastly animator. Susie, Alice, Bendy, Boris, and Norman warily made their way down the familiar hallway, they mused among themselves what could have possibly occurred.

 

“I didn’t hear any yelling.” Susie pointed out, quite helpfully.

 

“Maybe he was asleep,” Alice added on.

 

“That man, psh. I don’t think he’s ever slept,” Bendy remarked dryly. “Maybe he was having a stroke.” Norman sighed next to him.

 

“There’s a chance he’s picked up Mr. Drew’s habit of sacrificial rituals.” He chuckled.

 

All conversation ceased as they stopped in front of Sammy’s closed office door. Slowly, Norman lifted his hand to knock politely. Before he could, Bendy (decidedly impolitely) barged in with a grin. The others slowly started crowding in without looking, before stopping at the tapping noise.

 

The noise that came from Sammy’s feet as they were propped up on his desk, tap-tap-tapping. The man himself was situated in his chair, one hand rubbing the armrest, while the other held a lit cigar to his lips.

 

Something known about Sammy was that he only smoked when he felt really stressed, and almost  _ never _ smoked inside. Tap-tap-tapping.

 

Sammy looked abnormally calm in that wooden chair. Maybe it was because he felt making chains out of paperclips was therapeutic. Or maybe he felt satisfied in using them to chain up the switch in his wall.

 

The switch that drained the ink. The ink. The ink he was covered in.

 

Tap-tap-tapping.

 

Oh, well. If it wasn’t obvious before, it was now.

 

The five of them slowly backed out of his office, his never faltering gaze driving them away, as they pledged to let Joey handle this one himself. Everyone else would just have to find a new way to get to lunch break.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be honest... I'm slightly disappointed with the final chapter.  
> Maybe it sounds lame, but I kinda wanted some sort of Sammy redemption, y'know?
> 
> Hey man, he's my favorite character.
> 
> What are you guys dressing up for Halloween?
> 
> Follow me on tumbr at: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/fanficptsd


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